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Another Fine Myth by Robert Asprin

“Look. Aahz! “I cried.

“What?”

“It’s raining in that tent!”

As if in answer to my words, a boom of thunder and a crackle of lightning erupted from the display.

“Yeah. So?” Aahz dismissed it with a glance.

“What are they selling, rain?”

“Naw. Weather-control devices. They’re scattered through the whole Bazaar instead of hanging together in one section. Something about the devices interfering with each other.”

“Are all the displays that spectacular?”

“That isn’t spectacular, kid. They used to do tornados until the other booths complained and they had to limit their demonstrations to the tame stuff. Now hurry up!”

“Where are we going anyway, Aahz? And what is that smell?”

The repulsive aroma was growing noticeably stronger.

“That,” proclaimed Aahz, coming to a halt in front of a dome-shaped tent, “is the smell of Pervish cooking!”

“Food? We came all this way so you could have a meal?”

“First things first, kid. I haven’t had a decent meal since Garkin called me out of the middle of a party and stranded me in your idiot dimension.”

“But we’re supposed to be looking for something to use against Isstvan.”

“Relax, kid. I haggle better on a full stomach. Just wait here. I won’t be long.”

“Wait here? Can’t I go in with you?”

“I don’t think you’d like it, kid. To anyone who wasn’t born on Perv, the food looks even worse than it smells.”

I found that hard to believe, but pursued the argument gamely.

“I’m not all that weak-stomached, you know. When I was living in the woods, I ate some pretty weird things myself.”

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Categories: Asprin, Robert
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